


when you are young, they assume you know nothing (but I knew you)

by ProfessionalPenThief



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dick Jokes, F/F, F/M, Food mention, M/M, Peraltiago, also gina and rosa are super minor, also i love papa holt looking after amy, pick out taylor swift lyrics challenge, please leave a comment i need to replenish the energy spent on this lol, roger is straight up a villain because someone had to be, there's drinking, this is mainly peraltiago and holt and kevin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27012700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessionalPenThief/pseuds/ProfessionalPenThief
Summary: Amy Santiago was all set to be the Queen of Genovia when Roger Peralta questioned her legitimacy. In order to strengthen her claim, she has to get married. But what happens when she falls in love instead.Basically, Peraltiago loosely set to the plot of princess diaries two.
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Kevin Cozner/Ray Holt, Rosa Diaz/Gina Linetti
Comments: 12
Kudos: 40





	when you are young, they assume you know nothing (but I knew you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poloniusthegiraffe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poloniusthegiraffe/gifts).



> A/N: I was like, I need a little bit of background to explain why Amy is the princess/queen but her parents aren’t royalty. And also make sure Jake and Amy aren’t related and then the next thing I know I had the prologue written out. A bitch got carried away with lore. HELP. Also can you tell I do not know how taxes work??? 
> 
> Wrote this for the B99 Summer Fic Exchange 2020

Prologue 

It began with an orb. King Artur, the ruler of Guaynia, was walking the woods. It rolled out of the trees, onto the trail, and stopped in front of his feet. As he picked it up, there was a crash. He leaped back, his training kicking in. A beautiful woman emerged from the trees, just as startled to see him. 

“I’m looking for my —” 

He extended his arm. She smiled, wrapping her hands around his as she took back her magic ball. 

“It found you.” 

“And it led you to me,” he replied, bowing a little. She laughed, and he looked up. “I’m Artur.”

“Rosagunde, and I’m honored,” she replied. 

Hand in hand, seconds turned into minutes. Minutes became weeks, and weeks added up to months. 

Two years later, he entered her shop one day, a little after lunch. She was in the back, brewing a potion when the tinkle of the bell caught her attention. She stepped upfront as he eyed a sprig of rosemary. 

“Oh my,” she said, dramatically leaning into the counter. “It’s King Artur himself.” 

He blushed as she laughed at his expense. 

“You know, that could be considered treason,” he replied. 

She raised an eyebrow. “Fainting at the very sight of you?” 

“Making fun of me.” 

“In that case —” she said, crossing the distance between them. “— I must make it up to you.” She kissed him, and he snaked his hands around her waist. 

“Marry me,” he whispered against her lips. 

“Uh-huh. Sure,” she replied. 

He pulled back, a little dazed. 

“Tea?” she offered and ducked into the back. 

“What were you up to?”

“Tinkering with a recipe. What about you?”

“Slipped out of a council meeting.” 

“To see me? How romantic.”

He laughed dryly. “The crops are failing, and my ministers only care about their wealth. I’m at a loss.”

“That’s because you’re you,” she replied. 

“And you think you’d do a better job than me?”

“Why don’t you give me a piece of your land, and we’ll find out?” She smirked. “I dare you."

“You’ve got your magic.”

“No magic,” she swore. 

“Alright,” he said, matching her grin. “Only if you marry me.” 

“You don’t mean it.”

“I dare you.” 

She crossed her hands. “Fine.”

They were married soon after, and as a wedding present, he offered her a small village. It was 2 miles long and about 4.7 miles wide, and it flourished under her leadership. Artur couldn’t be prouder. They often spent weeks apart, and every time they came together, it was so much sweeter. 

5 years, a son and a cat later, Artur visited her for her birthday. Her son ran up to her with a ‘happy birthday mommy’ and a drawing he had done of hers. She told him that she loved it and sent him off. 

“Is the King of Guaynia secretly a miser?” she asked Artur. 

“I have a present for you,” he assured her. 

“And yet, I don’t see it.”

“How would you like to rule your own country? This village should be its own principality.”

“Artur,” she said softly, the confusion and disbelief evident in her tone. 

“You are a better ruler than me,” he conceded. 

“Which we knew.”

“Everyone should know that. Also, Guaynia isn’t doing well, and it’s better for your country if it’s not a part of Guaynia.”

She inhaled sharply. “I love you,” she said, pulling him into a kiss. 

“I love you too.”

“And you have to promise that if Genovia is ever not doing well, it will have a place in Guaynia.” 

“Always.” He promised. “Is that what you’re gonna name it?”

“What do you think?”

“I like it.”

“And this better not be my real present.” 

He laughed. “Actually, I did find this in the back of my closet.” He pulled out the orb from inside his robes. 

As far as Artur and Rosagunde were concerned, their life spans — the past, present, and the future — all came together in that singular moment in time when they first met. 

Artur died first, after a long day in bed. She never left his side. As he said his goodbyes, she gave him the orb.

“So, you can always find me.” 

He wrapped his hands around hers. 

“Keep it. It will lead you back to me.”

They held it together, and it glowed in their hands. Even as their time faded and magic disappeared from the world, the orb remained — a memory of everything that once was. 

-x-

Amy Santiago never thought of herself as a princess. 

She grew up with seven brothers in various boyhood stages, who had yet to unlearn the gender binary. Princess tea parties and dollhouse games weren’t a household staple. There wasn’t a stray daydream where she rode ponies and wore tiaras. Ironic then that it became her reality. 

She had come home one day, gushing about a math test, to find a complete stranger sharing tea with her parents. He was from a place called Genovia that apparently elected its rulers with a magical orb. 

“I don’t understand,” replied Amy. 

“The Orb determined you to be our next ruler. What do you not understand?” replied the stranger, not unkindly. 

“Your angle. I don’t understand. Is this an elaborate pyramid scheme? You know most scam artists claim to be Martin Luther King Jr’s nephew or something.”

“I assure you; this is not a scam.”

“And say, even if I believe you, this is New York City. Did you know there’s like a million Amy’s here?”

“Yes. I did know.”

Needless to say, the news had not gone down easy. 

-x- 

On the verge of 21, Amy stared at her reflection in a large, ornate, gold framed mirror. She couldn’t recognize herself. Her hair was done up by two professional stylists for 3 hours. Her makeup wasn’t as elaborate, but she couldn’t find the remnants of her zits — something she had carried with her since 15. She wore a silk gown with a netted train. She felt the fragility. 

A knock. 

“Come in,” Amy called out. 

A guard opened the door, and Raymond Holt entered. Three years ago, he was a stranger that changed her life. Today, he was a mentor, political advisor, and a close friend. 

“You look good, Santiago.”

“Thank you, Captain.” 

He smiled at her in the mirror. Captain, a term of endearment she had stuck after he had bossed her around one too many times, and she had jumped into a salute, followed with an “Ay, ay, Captain.”

“Ready?” 

Amy pursed her lips, holding back a scowl. He offered her his hand. “Come on, then.”

-x-

Jake Peralta walked down a long corridor with his friend Charles Boyle. 

“I’m glad you’re coming.”

“Of course, Jakey. What kind of a friend would I be if I wasn’t there in your hour of need,” he replied. 

Jake shrugged. “I know I’m dramatic, but it’s not the end of the world.”

“Besides, I heard they’re catering authentic Genovian food. You know they don’t do that here,” Charles continued without acknowledging Jake’s reply. 

“That… makes sense.” 

They reached a set of closed doors. Jake nodded at a guard, who announced their entry into the room. A man sat at a desk, poring over a few books. He looked up as they entered.

“Roger.” Jake nodded at him. 

Roger was Jake’s father. He had cheated on Jake's mom, driven their family into debt with his gambling, left, and reappeared when Jake was away at university without any apologies or explanations. Jake hated him.

(Actually, Jake wanted to hate him, but till he filled the father-shaped hole in him, it would be impossible.)

“Ah, Jake. Good, you’re here. I was just reading over some of the old laws of Genovia.”

“Why?”

“Research. You should always be prepared; know what you’re walking into. I should talk to your uncle about your training.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “We’re just attending a party. It’s not a business event.” 

“Everything is work when you’re a king, Jake. Remember that.”

“Except I’m not.”

“You’re next in line, and that’s as good as being one. Also, we’re going to be staying in Genovia a little longer.”

“What do you mean? Where’s mom?” 

“She won’t be joining us,” answered Roger. “I think it’s a good time for us to bond as a father and son.”

Jake and Charles exchanged panicked glances. 

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. No doubt, no doubt.” 

“Are you having a stroke?” 

“It’ll be fun,” chimed in Charles. “Boys trip!” 

“Yaaaaaay,” muttered Jake. 

-x- 

Amy had expected to celebrate her 21st birthday at a shitty dive bar with some college friends where she had been going for years with a fake id anyway. She never went to college. And her party was an extravagant event open to the entire country and several diplomats. 

After two hours of small talk, pretend smiles, and tempting but ultimately dissatisfying appetizers, Amy slipped out of the giant ballroom and wandered in the direction of the kitchen. Since the catering was set up next to the ballroom, her personal kitchen (which was much smaller) would be empty. 

She didn’t bother with the light, making a beeline for the fridge. She had to be quick—in and out. If her absence was noticed, it would be twisted into a scandal. She was sure of it, just as she was confident her ministers would use it to undermine her authority. The orb may have chosen her, but they hadn’t. 

_Yet_ , said a Holt-like voice in her head.

She shook her head, pushing the thought back. She wasn’t sure she cared. 

“Are you stealing from the royal kitchen?”

Amy jumped. “What the —” 

A tall, handsome man about her age grinned at her. His teeth were perfectly white. What an odd thing to notice. 

“I don’t blame you. The horse devours are tiny... unlike my d—”

Amy coughed. 

“— unlike my daddy issues,” completed Jake. 

Amy laughed. “Nice save.”

“What do you think I meant —” Jake gasped, scandalized. “Mind out of the gutter.” 

“I think —” Amy answered, choosing her words. “You meant hors d'oeuvres.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, you said horse devours.” 

“I hear no difference.”

Amy rolled her eyes and turned to the fridge. 

“So, see anything tasty in there?” He perched on the countertop. 

“Leftover garlic bread,” Amy replied, continuing to poke around the fridge. 

“Garlicky bread. Proof that God exists.”

“Guess that’s settled then.” She placed the bread on the counter, kicking the fridge door shut. 

As she faced him, fully this time, the garden lights clicked on. Strings of fairy lights lit up the room. She was glowing. Jake swallowed deeply as she leaned into him, reaching behind for a knife. 

“My nana makes the best ones, though I’m pretty sure she stole the recipe.” Jake rambled. “There’s this place near where I live, and they sell garlic bread; like whole loafs—”

“You mean loaves?” 

“Yes. Obviously. I think we’ve established you’re more correct than I am.”

Amy smiled and waved. “Continue.” 

“— And it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever had.”

Amy placed two slices in the toaster. “The best garlic bread I’ve ever had is at this place, Hermines. Like biting into a cloud.”

“Hermines' is totally overrated. Adams Bread Haven, which is what I was talking about, is way better. It’s this small, hole in the wall on the corner of Broadway and 58th.”

“Wait! You live in New York?” 

“You live in New York!”

“No. Not anymore. I grew up there.”

“I am studying there.”

“I miss it. Even the piss smell of the subway,” said Amy. 

“It’s the worst. I love it.” 

She beamed at him. “Weird coincidence, huh.”

Jake nodded as he jumped off the counter, returning the extra bread to the fridge. 

“You know,” she whispered conspiringly. He glanced at her. “The pigs-in-a-blanket definitely looked like penises.”

He snorted, bursting into laughter. Amy looked pleased as he doubled over.

Faint music carried into the room. Eyes still twinkling, he quirked an eyebrow. She frowned back, confused. He offered a hand. _Dance with me._

“I’m a terrible dancer.”

“Ah! Something you’re bad at. I have to see this.” 

Amy laughed and accepted. They swayed in the refrigerator light, straining to catch the tune. Amy stepped on his toes, and he buckled a little.

“Oh no, I’m so so sorry.” 

“Fine. I’m fine.” 

“I told you,” she muttered. It was another thing on the list of her failures as a princess. 

“Do you want me to show you what to do? My tough, manly toes are definitely not bruising, but for the next dude’s sake.”

Amy laughed, surprising herself, and nodded. He snuck a steadying hand to her waist, and she didn’t feel as down anymore. He showed her a quick four-step.

“Apologies to your manly toes,” she said. 

“Yeah, I definitely broke a nail. I’m gonna cry when you can’t see me.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” she replied, focusing on maintaining a rhythm. 

“Don’t think so much,” he said, pulling her closer. Before either of them could react to their proximity, he twirled her out. Surprised, she lost her balance and stumbled, giggling. 

“Steady there, food thief.”

“Oh, come on! You could be an actual thief for all I know.”

“I could be.” He grinned. 

“What are you even doing here? Who are you?”

He dropped her hands, pushing away. “Fuck.”

“Everything okay?”

“I…uhh, someone’s waiting for me. I got distracted looking for a phone signal.”

“You should go.”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t move. 

“I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely.” 

He left with a wave. 

The toaster popped, startling Amy. The garlic bread. She took a bite, putting aside Jake’s piece on a paper towel. Finding a pen, she wrote down — _In case you get hungry for more._

-x- 

Amy was about to enter the council room when she realized she never asked for his name. 

“We have a guest attending the meeting today,” informed Holt. “Mr. Roger Peralta.” 

Amy turned to the man in question, who introduced himself with a handshake. She nodded, subtly turning toward Holt. 

“A representative from Guaynia,” Holt added, answering her unspoken question. 

“Thank you for having me,” he replied. 

“No worries. Is there anything specific I can help you with?”

A buzz traveled through the room, and she knew she had said something wrong. Roger chuckled politely, but Amy felt the hollow of his laugh. She held back a scowl. 

“I’m just sitting in,” he replied. 

“Traditionally, Guaynian representatives like to attend our meetings when they visit. They’re our guests; they have an open invitation,” explained Holt.

Amy wanted to ask why, but she knew it wouldn’t help her cause. She would just sit down with Holt later. 

“Well then, shall we start with the daily reports?”

“Farmers are reporting a low crop yield. A lot of them are struggling to make ends meet, let alone pay the taxes. Not to mention that without the additional exports, we won't turn a profit for the quarter,” spoke one of the ministers. 

Amy sighed. “Let’s not worry about the royal treasury right now. Would it help if we suspended taxes for those in need?” 

“The royal treasury can’t take that big a hit.”

“What if we increased taxes for those in higher income brackets? The businessmen instead of the farmers.”

Another ripple of protests tore through the room. She was getting tired of this. She turned to Holt, who cleared his throat. 

“We can extend the due date for tax payment and keep going till then.”

“Sounds good to me,” replied Amy. “What’s next?” 

“The Genovian Independence Day is coming up. We’ll have to prepare for the festivities. It’ll help lift the citizen’s spirits,” said another minister. 

The meeting continued, with more reports for Amy to analyze and issues to address. She deferred to Holt for the details on most things but did her best to keep going. 

Usually, she would enjoy something like this. Solving problems, figuring out solutions for complicated issues, and coming up with unexpectedly brilliant strategies was her forte. But as a Queen in waiting, she was failing. She could never shake the feeling that her actions affected people — real, living flesh and blood, people. She was so scared of making a false step, she remained frozen. 

“The last subject for the day — your coronation.”

Roger Peralta cleared his throat, and the room turned to him. 

“Mr. Peralta?” Amy gave him permission to speak. 

“I’m afraid a coronation won’t be possible.”

“Excuse me?”

He stood up, walking up to the other end of the conference table. All eyes were on him. 

“Surely everyone here knows she can’t be crowned the Queen till she’s married.”

Amy stared aghast. No one spoke up in her defense except Holt. 

“Mr. Peralta, you’ve overstayed your welcome here.”

Amy’s head whipped around. Hadn’t he said that he had an open invitation? She wasn’t the only one scandalized, but Holt kept a steady gaze on Roger. 

“Why, Mr. Holt, you’re better suited to rule Genovia than she is. She is a child.”

“I’m going to call for security,” said Holt, standing up. 

Roger frowned and then chuckled. “So. You know then.”

“Know what?” asked Amy. 

“It’s nothing,” replied Holt. 

“If a ruler of Genovia is found unfit, the country automatically merges with Guaynia. And you won’t be fit till you’re married,” answered Roger. “I’m not surprised you don’t know your own history,” he added. 

Her blood turned cold in her veins. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Gasps from the ministers. _Of course_ , thought Amy. _Of-fucking-course. They were more horrified by the word fuck than the man openly threatening to take her crown_.

“You don’t have the authority to make that call,” said Holt. 

“You’re correct. Only the King can, and soon it will be my son, Jake.”

“Enough,” said Amy. “If you won’t leave, then I will. This meeting is over.”

Without a backward glance, Amy walked out, blinking back tears. 

-x- 

Amy made it all the way to the gardens, to her favorite secluded alcove. And then, like a dam bursting, she let out a loud scream. 

“Woah!”

She jumped. Behind her stood a short, scared man. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ll come back.”

“Please, stay. I’ll go,” said Amy. 

“No, uhh. Do you want to talk about it?” he offered. “I’m Charles.”

Amy rubbed her eyes, her lens poking into the eyeball. “I’m Amy.”

“Queen Amy?” asked Charles bowing reverently. 

She snorted ironically. “That’s debatable, apparently. I fucking left my whole life behind for this. Three years of my life. Entire five-year plan out the fucking window and now — I. Ugh.” She stomped her foot. 

“I’m not sure I follow, but I understand. You’re stressed,” said Charles.

She nodded. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“I get it. My best friend is royalty, and he hasn’t even taken the throne yet, but he is overwhelmed all the time.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she confessed. 

“Neither does he, and he seems to be doing alright.”

“Thank you. That’s kinda comforting.”

Footsteps approached them. 

“Charles?” came a faint voice. 

“That’s him now,” said Charles. “Jakey! Over here,” he called out, and turning the corner of a bush was him — the man from the previous night. 

“You,” said Amy. A kind face was exactly what she needed. 

“Hey, food thief,” said Jake, his face brightening.

“Jake,” said Charles, nudging him. “This is the queen of Genovia — Amy Santiago.”

“Ohh, shit,” he replied. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“At least you aren’t a thief, eh.”

Amy laughed. “Jury’s still out on you, though.”

“Jake Peralta,” he said. “King-in-waiting of Guaynia.” He threw an awkward peace sign at her, refusing to meet her eye. 

“As in Roger Peralta’s son?”

“You’ve met his father?” asked Charles.

“That’s never a good sign.” 

“You! You’re the one trying to steal my crown.”

“What? No, I’m not!” 

“I thought you were cool,” she said. Her disappointment spilled out on her face. She turned on her heel. God, she needed a cigarette. 

“I am cool,” Jake called out after her. 

-x-

Amy spent the next two days holed up in her room, avoiding everyone and only sneaking into her kitchen at night. No one bothered her. On the third day, someone knocked and entered without permission. 

She turned in bed, her back to the door. “You know, Captain, I could have been naked.” 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

Amy bolted upright. In her doorway, wearing her flight only leather jacket, was Rosa Diaz. Next to her was Gina Linetti, staring unabashedly at Amy’s room. 

“You know, I think I like being called Captain,” said Gina. 

Amy jumped out of bed, pulling her two best friends into a hug. 

“Okay, we don’t do this,” muttered Rosa. 

“Yeah, I got the plane stank.”

“It’s happening,” muttered Amy into their hair. After a whole minute and several comforting pats on her back, she let them go. 

“I thought you could use a friendly face,” said Holt, hovering at the door. 

“Thank you, Captain.” Amy smiled gratefully. 

“What’s going on?” asked Rosa, plopping on the bed. “He said it’s an emergency.” She jerked her thumb at Holt.

“And for once, it’s not your choice in interior design,” added Gina. “I’m impressed by this room, Santiago.”

“I didn’t decorate it.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Can we focus, please,” interjected Holt. 

“You’ve got your hair in braids,” pointed out Rosa. 

“Ohh, that’s never good. Level one on the Santiago panic scale,” Gina explained to Holt. 

“I’ve been researching, but I can’t find a solution,” said Amy, her eyes on Captain Holt.

“I’m afraid there isn’t one. What Roger said is true.”

“Once again, what’s going on?” asked Rosa. 

Amy sighed. “I have to get married, or I can’t be the queen because I’d be “too unfit” to rule.” 

“That’s fucked up, dude.”

“It’s like, did Genovia even attend the 1979 UN convention? Probably not.”

“I heard blah, blah, blah, which is just proof that you know your shit,” added Gina.

Rosa stood up. “Alright. Who I gotta kill? I’ll do it.”

“You should,” added Gina. “I’m sure Amy can pardon you after she’s queen, right?”

“Santiago, I hope your friends are, as they say, messing around. Because otherwise, this is espionage.” 

“Sounds like something I’d be good at,” said Gina with a shrug. 

“What do you wanna do?” asked Rosa. “Give up? Go back to art school? NYU would kill to have you back.” 

“Santiagos do not give up.”

“If you want to do this, I have put together a profile of potential matches,” said Holt.

Amy turned to Gina. “How do you feel about checking out some boys?”

“Also sounds like something I’m great at.” 

“We got you, Santiago,” added Rosa. 

“Let’s find me a boy.”

-x- 

Finding a suitor was a surprisingly simple process. Mostly because hardly anyone passed the minimum requirements set by her and her friends. In the end, there were two options — Luke Mueller and Teddy Wells. 

Kevin Cozner, her arts and cultural history teacher, popped into the room as they were debating between the two. 

“Wells’ family is well-reputed. I think it would be a good match,” said Holt. 

“I don’t know, man. Luke is hotter,” argued Gina. 

“His boyfriend definitely thinks so,” interrupted Kevin. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he added. 

“Guys, this is Kevin, my teacher,” Amy said to the girls. “He’s gay?” she asked Kevin. 

“Presumably,” he replied. “Is that an issue?”

“God, I hope not,” chimed in Rosa. 

“Given that I’m pan, and she’s bi, and we’re kinda sorta dating,” said Gina. 

“You guys are dating?” 

“We agreed not to steal your engagement thunder, but yeah,” said Rosa. 

Gina shrugged. “Maybe. I’m still thinking about it.”

“Shut up, Gina.”

“I’m so happy for you two,” said Amy, beaming. 

“No more hugs,” warned Rosa as she recognized the look on Amy’s face. 

Holt cleared his throat.

“Right. So, Luke Mueller’s out —”

“At least two of my high school boyfriends were gay,” said Gina.

“Did you miss the part where I mentioned he’s taken as well?” said Kevin

“I like him.”

“That leaves us with Teddy Wells,” said Amy, ignoring Gina. 

“I’ll set up a meeting.”

-x- 

"My hobbies include crossword and brewing my own pilsners. Do you like pilsners?" he asked her. 

Teddy Wells was the most boring man Amy had ever met. And she’d gone out with more than one film nerd in New York. 

"I love the crossword," she replied. “Nothing beats the New York Times. I try to do it online, but I would kill to get my hands on an actual paper.” 

"Yeah. I think Pilsners are great. I've been perfecting my recipe for years now. But don't worry. If we get engaged, I'll tell you the secret ingredient." He tried to wink, but his other eye partly closed, giving him the overall appearance of an awkward man in pain. 

"Can't wait."

"I can tell we're going to be one of those couples where all our friends are like, there's Amy and Teddy. You know?" he said, reaching out and holding her hand. 

"For sure. Do you have a lot of friends?" 

"A couple, but they're scattered across Europe. Doing the whole soul searching, backpacking thing. It’s not my thing."

"I completely agree. You can’t just go somewhere. You need to research and plan and look for the best flights and hotel deals. What time of the year is good? How can you have fun without a schedule!”

"Sure." Teddy shrugged. "I’m not big on traveling."

When the 'date' finally came to an end, Amy let out an audible sigh of relief. 

“At least you won’t have to worry about a secret family,” offered Rosa as consolation. 

“And you can always have affairs,” added Gina. 

"It's our best option," reminded Holt.

"I know."

“We’ll announce the engagement on Wednesday,” said Holt. “Followed by the official ceremonies.”

“Have you told your parents?” Rosa asked. 

Amy groaned. This was a mess. 

-x-

The Jimmy Jab Games were another one of Genovian traditions. There seemed to be no end of practices in Genovia, each designed specifically to leave her baffled and always a step behind. 

She was hidden in the vast, maze-like garden with its many alcoves, smoking a cigarette. She couldn't watch as the various employees under her care prepared the ballroom. She needed a moment alone, so of course, he found her. 

He nearly walked past her when he spotted her. 

"Amy!" 

His whole face lit up at the sight of her, and she almost melted under his gaze. The audacity of the man. As if he wasn't trying to sabotage her. As if he wasn't the reason this was happening in the first place. 

"No. I'm not talking to you," she said, crossing her arms. 

"Fine. How about a smoke then?"

She frowned as he fell in step beside her. She reluctantly passed a cigarette. He lit it, rather clumsily she noticed, and put it to his lips. She watched expectantly, and he inhaled. He broke down coughing and dropped the cig. She stomped it down before anything could catch on fire. That's precisely what this day needed. 

"Have you ever smoked?" 

He shook his head, still coughing. 

"Jesus Christ," she muttered, thumping his back. "You better not die, Peralta." 

"Aww, gonna miss me, Santiago?"

"If you die, they're gonna think I killed you."

“Logical as always.”

“And what about you? Impulsive to a fault.”

Jake shrugged. "I had to talk to you," he explained. "I don't know what went down with Roger, but I swear, I didn't know anything."

Amy churned his words in her mind. “Do you remember the first thing you ever said to me?”

Jake thought for a moment. “About garlic bread?” 

“No, the other thing.”

It took a moment. “That I have a big dick?”

Amy snorted. “Massive.” He blushed, and she enjoyed the torment for a split second before continuing. “Massive daddy issues.”

“Ah! So you believe me.”

“I do. But it doesn’t matter.”

“Of course, it matters. You matter. I’ll tell Roger to back off, and even if he doesn’t listen to me, you know I’d never actually do what he’s threatened.”

“And my claim to the crown would still be questioned because a fucking orb decided it.”

“It’s a magical orb.”

“Magic isn’t real.”

“Sometimes, it is.”

Amy stuck her thumb at the alcove entrance, where the world waited, unable to penetrate their sacred ground.

“Do you know what’s happening out there?” 

“Some ceremony? Festivity? Who cares?”

“My engagement. If I’m going to sit on the throne, it’s because of logic. Not magic.”

Jake looked… Amy wasn’t sure. She couldn’t read his usually open face. She put out the cigarette on her sole and dropped it on the ground. 

“Cool,” he said. “Cool cool cool cool cool, no doubt no doubt no doubt. I’ll see you out there.” He ducked out. 

After a beat, she picked up the cigarette butt, casting an eye out for a trashcan. 

-x- 

“There you are, Santiago,” said Holt. To an untrained ear, his tone remained neutral, but Amy could hear the panic. 

“Girl, what the fuck did you do to your hair?” 

“You’ve got leaves and needles and shit over your dress.” Rosa roughly brushed the nature off her. 

“Who cares,” she muttered.

Gina raised an eyebrow. “Thank God you’re getting married soon. You need a honeymoon.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “I ran into Jake.”

“The guy trying to usurp your throne? That’ll explain the crankiness.” 

“Yeah, I guess.”

“The games are about to start. We’re running late,” said Holt. 

“What exactly are the Jimmy Jab games?” asked Gina

“It’s a series of competitions,” answered Amy. “Potential suitors vying for my hand.”

“I thought she was marrying Teddy,” interjected Rosa. 

“It’s more customary than binding,” explained Holt. 

“Right.” 

They came to a stop at a decorated pedestal that looked out at the front yard. 

Holt held her hand as he helped her up. “I’m sorry, Santiago. You should have had more time.” 

A strange feeling welled up in her throat. Her nose burned. She was going to choke. But the crowd had started cheering when they glimpsed her. _Her people_ , she realized with a start. There it was, staring in her face, the reason why she was doing his. A surge of pride rushed through her. She knew what to do next. 

With a practiced wave and a smile, she reached the center. Kevin approached her from the other side.

“So, what do I do?”

“You know what the games are?”

Amy nodded. 

“To start the games, you have to light the torches,” explained Kevin, nodding at the two torches that were raised on stands on either side of the stage. He handed her a long lighter. “Make sure it lights up on the first try.”

“I know. It’s bad luck otherwise.”

She smiled, and the first torch was on fire. As she moved to the second one, the suitors stepped up to their positions in front of her. One of them caught her eye — Jake Peralta. As she stared, the lighter died out in her hand. She gasped. He faced her, and as their eyes met, she blinked, looking away. 

She cleared her throat, hastily igniting the second torch. With as much confidence as she could muster, she declared, “Let the Jimmy Jab Games begin.”

-x- 

Jake won the games. Of course, he did. It was a close call till the very last section, where they had to steal into a room and capture the royal crown. Of course, it was a fake crown, just like this whole thing. _A farce_ , Amy reminded herself. _Entertaining but ultimately irrelevant_. 

After Amy declared Jake as the winner — Gina had let out a strangled sound at that, but there had been no time for an explanation — she called for Teddy to join her on the stage. Together, they announced their engagement. 

There was roaring applause, and as Amy peered into the shining faces, she knew her expression matched theirs. 

-x- 

“Kevin,” Raymond called out. Kevin waited for him, and the two fell into step together. “I’d say the night was a success, wouldn’t you?”

“It’s done.”

“Santiago did quite well.” 

Kevin leaned into Raymond’s as they walked, their hands brushing purposefully. He slowly slipped his hand into Raymond, who stopped in his tracks. He closed his eyes as if savoring the moment. 

“Is that what you wanted to talk about? The ceremony?”

“This is good for us,” replied Raymond. “Maybe we can retire after she’s crowned Queen.”

Kevin laughed a hollow laugh. “Look at you, Ray. You care for the girl.”

His eyes flew open. 

“As you should,” Kevin assured him. “She’s a kind girl. She’d make a noble ruler. But she’ll need you… maybe not always, but for a while, at least.” 

“I know what you’d rather have me do.” 

Kevin tugged him closer, kissing him. Even after they separated, they remained close. “I wouldn’t have you do anything you don’t want to, Ray. I love you. That will never change.” 

Raymond smiled gratefully. He cleared his throat. “I love you too.”

-x- 

Jake stood in front of Amy’s door. Queen Amy’s door, he corrected mentally. He nodded at the guard, who announced his presence to the Queen-in-waiting. She looked different than earlier, with her hair taken down and her contacts swapped for thick-framed glasses.

His heart performed somersaults under the firm gaze of her bug eyes. 

“Queen Amy,” he said, bowing deeply. 

She shifted her weight to one hip, crossing her arms. “What do you want, Peralta?”

“I have a gift for you.”

She glanced at the guard, who was staring straight ahead, his face impassive. 

“Come in.”

Her room was surprisingly small. It was still plenty huge, and he was sure she would agree, given that she was used to the cramped space of the city. But as far as royal standards went, it was small. There wasn’t even a parlor. 

Two women lounged on her bed, and he smirked. 

“Ladies,” he said, bowing again. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Peralta, is that you?”

He straightened up, blinking. “Gina? What are you doing here?”

“You’re bowing at me, so you explain yourself first.”

“I’m a King-in-waiting unless my 63-year-old uncle produces an heir.” 

Gina raised her eyebrows. 

“He’s the King,” Jake explained helpfully. She chucked a pillow at him. 

“Oi!”

“I figured that out. Why didn’t you tell me, you ass.”

“Safety reasons. I wanted to. Trust me. Would have made it much easier to get you to like me.”

Gina scowled but didn’t press further. Amy and Rosa exchanged confused, ‘do you know what’s going on?’ glances. 

“Babe?” 

“Jake and I knew each other in undergrad. Boy stole my economics notes, and I nearly flunked a test.”

“It was an accident, and I’ve apologized a million times. And they were mostly doodles. And it’s nice to meet you.”

“This is Rosa, my girlfriend.”

“Rosa!” Jake grinned. “Finally. I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Rosa smirked at Gina, who blushed. 

“Amy and Rosa knew each other in high school,” finished Gina. 

“We’re all caught up,” said Amy. “What are you doing here, Peralta?”

“I came to give you this.” He fished out the royal crown from his jacket.

“Is that the — ah. The Jimmy Jab’s crown. You know, you can keep it.”

“It’s for you,” said Jake, moving to place it on her head. She swatted his hand away. “Because you’re my Queen.” His hands were still extended, offering it to her. 

“You’re a butthead.”

“I can’t believe you called me a butthead.” 

She rolled her eyes and accepted the crown. He grinned and winked at her, basking in her blush. 

-x-

Jake left without any further conversation. Amy stared at the closed door before groaning. 

“Ugh! I’m going to kill him.” Frustration crept into her tone, but she was careful in placing the crown on her desk. 

“Oh shit,” said Rosa.

“What?”

“Girl, you’re in love with the whole man,” answered Gina.

“What! No, I’m not.” Amy protested as Rosa burst into laughter. 

“I’m not. I’m marrying Teddy.”

“It’s okay if you are,” said Gina, joining in the laughter. “He’s a good egg.”

“I’m not.” Amy insisted, chucking a pillow at Gina. Gina dove under Rosa, the two of them falling on the ground in a pile of amusement. 

-x- 

The days were a blur after that night. Amy was torn between wedding planning and council meetings, and often an unholy combination of the two as they went over the wedding budget. If left up to Amy, the whole business would take less than 10 minutes. She would have them sign the papers without any fuss, but the idea was unacceptable. Her wedding, and she suspected her marriage, would be an extravagant, public affair. 

“My nephew is a capable decorator. He works exclusively with bigger clients, so I assure you his work is the best out there,” chimed in one of the Ministers. Amy stared at his handlebar mustache, wondering how long it must have taken him to grow it out. He cleared his throat, demanding her attention. 

“What do you think?”

“I thought the royal treasury didn’t have the money.”

“Preposterous!”

“Our Queen deserves the best wedding,” said someone. Amy raised an eyebrow at ‘Our Queen’. They added, “There’ll be dignitaries from all our neighbors.”

Showing off was something Amy understood. But this wasn’t about her. “We couldn’t afford to cut down the taxes, so how can we afford this?”

Her persistent arguing had led her to be banished from the wedding planning. Gina and Rosa had taken over as creative consultants, while Holt managed the budget. He had assured her that he wouldn’t lose sight of the goal — The wedding was simply a step towards her becoming a good ruler. 

-x- 

On the 25th of March, Amy clambered into a chariot. It was the Genovian Independence Day, and she was to lead the parade. It was a much-needed respite from the troubles of running a country. The route would take her all over the principality, putting her right in the middle of her citizens. After the Jimmy Jab games, she wanted nothing more than to spend time with them. 

Rosa and Gina had their own carriage, right behind her. Next to them, in another carriage, was Kevin. Holt moved to join him when Amy grabbed him by the elbow. 

He stopped, staring at her. She quickly dropped her hand. 

“Sorry.”

“Is everything alright, Santiago?”

“Ride with me.” She confessed. “Please?”

Holt glanced at Kevin, who was looking at them expectantly. He offered his lover a short, imperceptible wave and joined his mentee. Amy relaxed. 

“I wanted you to make sure I don’t mess anything up.” 

“You won’t, Santiago.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

She settled into her cushioned seat, but Holt remained standing. 

“Go on then,” she said, patting the seat next to her. 

“I can’t. It’s not leveled; your seat has to be higher.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “I insist.” 

Holt hesitated but gave in. 

He relaxed as the parade progressed. Amy grew more comfortable, waving, and smiling as the crowd cheered. Lanterns were strung up across the streets. Paper flags and streamers crisscrossing through them. 

As they turned into the town square, a young girl ran up to her. She thrust a bouquet of flowers at her. 

“Only 2 euros per bouquet, please.” She piped up in her squeaky voice. She couldn’t be older than eight or nine. 

Amy gracefully accepted, smiling. “Will you accept 5 euros? I don’t have change.”

She was aware of the cameras pointed at her, recording the interaction. 

"I'll bring you another," the girl replied, dashing off. 

"No, I didn't mean —" Amy smiled sheepishly at the cameras. The parade had come to a halt. 

"Why don't I pay the girl," suggested Holt. "And the parade can carry on."

But Amy wasn’t paying attention. The girl had run across the street into a beautifully decorated, quaint little flower shop. She emerged with her mother in tow. They both held bouquets as they approached Amy. 

Amy descended, accepting their gifts and embracing them. The mother flushed and stared in awe while the little girls felt her satin dress. 

“Is that your shop?” Amy asked. 

The mother nodded. “I run it with my husband, but he’s at home, sick.” 

“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Amy felt Holt stiffen beside her. The woman shook her head. 

“Thank you, but we don’t need charity.” 

Amy glanced at the girl and at their flower shop. An idea forming in her mind. 

“How about a job offer? I love the way your shop looks, and I’m looking for a wedding decorator.”

The woman lit up, beaming at her. She nodded, and applause ran through the crowd. Amy felt lighter than she had in months as she climbed back in her carriage. 

-x- 

Jake laid on Charles’ bed, throwing a small pillow in the air while his friend pored through a thick book. 

“Charles?”

“Hmm.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

His head whipped up. “I fall in love with every beautiful person who smiles at me.” 

Jake snorted. 

Charles continued. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Just thinking, with Amy’s sudden engagement.”

“It was a political maneuver, so your father can’t question her. Everyone knows it.” 

“Yeah, but don’t you think she deserves love? So what if she’s a queen without a husband.” 

“I think she’s a good ruler.”

“Yeah. The parade was fun,” said Jake. “What she did was really cool. I mean, I’m sure she has like a binder full of wedding stuff she’s been planning since she was five, and she just made up her mind, like that.”

“You’re in love with Amy,” gasped Charles, realizing. 

The pillow fell on Jake’s face with a thump. He straightened up. “What? No. It’s Amy. She’s kind of a nerd —”

“So are you.”

“— and she’s super stressed about everything. Like she needs constant approval and is organized to a fault, and I’m not in love with her.”

“Uh-huh. You were never great at lying, Jakey,” said Charles. His glee was barely contained on his face. 

“She’s engaged,” retorted Jake. 

“I’m sorry,” replied Charles, patting his shoulder.

“I’m not in love with her! I’ve known her for about a month.”

“A whirlwind romance. That’s so poetic.” 

Jake sighed. There was no arguing with Charles. 

-x- 

Holt leaned against the edge of his balcony. His quarters overlooked the border of the royal estate. Beyond the wall were deep woods. It offered him more privacy than any other place. 

Kevin came up behind him, pressing his lips against his nape. 

"You're scared."

"Worried for her."

"Because she offered a job?"

"It was meant for Minister Coleman's nephew."

"Do I know him?"

"The handlebar mustache."

"Ah. Of course."

"They'll survive. But his uncle, the true beacon of nepotism, will hold this against Santiago."

Kevin laughed. "I love you when you're making me laugh."

Holt twisted, facing Kevin. They kissed. 

"Let's just go to bed."

"I know you're worried, Raymond. But I don't think you should be. She may have made an error, and it might cost her a few favors, but she changed that woman's life. She's not a politician, but she's a kind leader, and I know what I prefer."

-x- 

"Mr. Peralta, you have a guest."

Roger waved the guard away, staring at his cards. 

"They insisted that you meet with them."

"Can't you see I'm busy?"

The door creaked as it was pushed open. A towering man stood in the doorway. 

"Let me guess. Blackjack?"

Roger swallowed his words. 

"Leave us alone." The man dismissed the guard. 

"Daniel, I —"

"You must convey my congratulations, Roger, to your dear friend. The Queen of Genovia." 

"I have a plan."

"You better. Because you assured me that Genovia and Guaynia would be reunited in less than 6 months."

"I remember."

"You even bet on it."

"Look, you don't have to worry about the money."

"This is bigger than money, Roger."

"What?"

"This is current events. The ripple effects of this will be global, and I have some investments that I am expecting a solid return on."

"I have a plan."

"So you said."

The two stared at each other for a moment. Daniel crossed in the distance between them in two strides, his hand around Roger's scruff. 

The door burst open. 

"Roger, I—" Jake stopped in his tracks. 

Daniel and Roger quickly straightened themselves. 

"Everything alright here?"

"Sure. Uhh, Jake, this is Daniel. A friend from Genovia. My son, Jake." Roger introduced the two. 

"The King-in-waiting." 

"That's me," replied Jake. 

Daniel bowed and walked past him and out of the room. 

"Wow. So rude; didn't even say goodbye," Jake muttered. 

"Jake, you had something to say?"

"I think we should head home."

"Oh. Is everything okay? Are your accommodations not appropriate? These Genovians, I swear —" 

"No, it's not that." Jake took a deep breath as he continued. "Dad, I know you think Amy isn't a good leader, but I've observed her. Genovia is in good hands with her. I don't see any other reason for us to overstay our welcome here."

Roger faltered. "She's still young, Jake. And naive -"

"And she will learn."

“And being married doesn’t mean she’ll be a good leader.”

“Duh! That’s not what I meant. She’s great, with or without a husband.”

"What about the wedding? We should stay for the wedding."

"I'd rather not. But you should feel free to stay if you wish."

Fuck, thought Roger. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was all unraveling. He needed time. 

"Dad?" Jake snapped his fingers in front of him. 

"I'm fine. I — excuse me, I'm busy."

"Oh. Right. 'course." Jake shot from double finger guns and backed out of the room. "I know when I'm not wanted." 

-x- 

Jake’s sword cut through the air. A gentle breeze caressed his heaving chest as he moved through his training. Amy had been about to hide into her preferred garden alcove when she had spotted him. He had been immersed in his work, and Amy couldn’t help but crave more of this — watching him in his natural element. She had ducked behind a pillar and stopped to stare. 

His shoulders flexed under the shifting weight of the sword. His movements were light and quick. Damp with sweat, his hair was curlier than usual and stuck to his forehead. He thrust his sword forward with a sense of finality. 

“You know, I can sense you.”

Amy flushed and stepped out. He held a relaxed stance and grinned. 

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” she explained. 

“It’s a part of training — knowing your surroundings.”

“Right. That makes sense.”

“You must have been impressed, given the staring.” 

“I wasn’t staring.”

Jake grinned. “Aww, is Santiago in love with little old me?”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that massive, thick head on your shoulders is extremely sexy.” Biting her lip, she continued. “Maybe a little impressed. Mostly curious. How did you learn how to move like that?”

“I’ve been training since I was five. Standard safety for the King-in-waiting.” He rolled his eyes at the last part. 

“You know, I’m a Queen-in-waiting, and no one’s bothered teaching me that.”

“We must rectify that at once.”

“Rectify. That’s a big word for you.”

“And here I was, about to offer my help like an idiot.”

Amy laughed. “You are an idiot.” 

She stepped closer, fingering the blade. Jake handed it to her, and she tested her grip. He wrapped his hand around hers, adjusting her fingers till it was light and sturdy in her hands. 

“Widen your stance a little.”

Amy obeyed. Jake’s hands hovered near her waist. 

“May I?”

Amy nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her heart thudded in her chest as He twisted her by the waist. She let his gentle touch guide her. 

“Raise your hand like this,” he muttered. He enveloped her from the back, nudging her arm higher than she had lifted. He supported her as she struggled, fingers on her elbow. Their bodies were pressed close together, but he remained focused on the work. 

Amy closed her eyes and prayed. This was a religious experience. 

His breath was hot near her cheek. If she moved, they would end up kissing.

“Perfect,” he said, stepping away. 

She turned her head to glance at him. “Yeah?” 

His eyes widened, as if suddenly aware of how close they were. Her eyes flitted towards his lips. He cleared his throat. 

“Teddy,” he said. “How come he didn’t show this stuff?”

Amy face forwards again, shrugging. “I don’t know him that well.”

“We’ve only known each other a couple of months.”

“True,” conceded Amy. “But I already know you’re a good teacher.” She performed the four-step he taught her the first night they met. He chuckled. 

“I should start charging you.”

“I’m sure there’s plenty I could teach you,” Amy retorted. 

He didn’t reply, picking up a spare sword and inviting her to hit him. Hitting, parrying, deflecting — they trained. 

-x- 

“Have you seen her?” Holt asked Kevin, barging into his study without a knock.

“Ray? What’s going on?”

“Santiago. I can’t find her.”

Kevin stood up, joining him. 

“It’s a big palace. She must be around here somewhere.”

“She skipped a meeting.”

“I’m sure she didn’t miss anything.”

They walked down the hallways, popping into the occasional room.

“Are you looking for someone, Sirs?” A guard walking past asked them. 

“Queen Santiago, have you seen her?” asked Kevin. 

She nodded. “The Queen is in the gardens, sparring. I don’t think she’d like to be interrupted.” 

Kevin thanked the guard, and she walked away. 

“Sparring?” He asked Holt, who shook his head. He was just as dumbfounded. 

As they reached the gardens, they spotted Amy fighting Jake in earnest. Holt ran out, pulling the two apart. He had Jake on the ground, a short knife to his throat before either of them figured out what was happening. 

“Santiago. Are you okay?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Amy yelled at him as she knelt by Jake. “You okay?” 

Jake sat up, rubbing his head. “I can see why you never needed to learn to protect yourself.” 

She chuckled weakly, pulling him up. He stumbled forward, once again in her bubble. Before either of them could react, Holt cleared his throat. 

“Captain, I —”

“Apologies, Santiago. I thought you were in danger.”

“We’re not used to seeing you fight,” added Kevin. 

“Jake was just teaching me —” She turned to Jake and frowned. “You’re bleeding.” 

Jake reached up to his forehead and pulled away a stained finger. “Huh.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Come on.”

-x- 

Amy had instructed Jake to sit down while she fussed over his small cut. She worked in silence for a moment, applying rubbing alcohol to a cotton swab. He let out a soft hiss as she cleaned his wound.

“Oww,” he muttered. 

She grinned to herself. “You’re a big baby.”

After another brief comfortable silence, Jake spoke up. “You know, I don’t disagree.”

“Hmm?” 

“You probably could teach me plenty of things.”

“Thanks,” she replied. She applied a bandaid. “I haven’t felt competent lately.”

“Come on, Santiago. You were born and brought up in New York. I almost cried the first time I tried to order a pizza there.”

Amy laughed, putting away the supplies.

“I’m not joking,” added Jake as Amy settled into a seat opposite him. “I wanted a number 7, but they didn’t have it. And they tried to explain, but the accent. I couldn’t figure out a word. So I’m all ‘heh?’ and the person looked so fed up and disappointed. And I was just ‘please sir, do what you think is fine,’ and they handed me a mushroom slice. There were like a gazillion mushrooms on this slice. And no pepperoni. No pepps, Ames. No pepps.”

Amy laughed. Her heart did somersaults in her chest at her new nickname. 

“My point is,” Jake continued. “If you can thrive in New York, you can make it anywhere.”

“How do you know I thrived in New York?”

“Didn’t you?”

Amy smiled. “Yeah. I was so good. I won over Rosa. Was the valedictorian. Got my English lit teacher’s number so we could discuss the Sunday crossword —”

“Of course, you did.” Jake laughed. 

“I got into all the colleges I applied at. I was gonna be an art major.”

“You paint?” 

“Yeah. I’ve been planning my first showing since I was five. Had a binder full of details. It was my first binder, actually,” replied Amy. 

“First binder? Santiago, please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it does.”

Amy shrugged, unapologetic. “You know, there’s a reason I was voted most likely to succeed. I had a plan.”

“There ya go! If a high schooler says it, it’s gotta be true. They’re basically prophets.”

“I probably shouldn’t admit it, but I feel like I’m failing. My usual extensive research technique isn’t working, and I should just quit while I’m ahead. Manage the collateral damage.”

Jake sighed, closing his eyes. 

“Okay, confession time.” 

“Tell me all your dirty, dirty secrets.”

Jake snorted before turning serious again. “I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“It was only supposed to be a week-long trip. And then Roger questioned you, extending our stay. And then you got engaged, and lately — I just realized, there’s no reason for me to stay here. So I’ll be gone in a few days.” 

“Oh.”

“What I mean —,” Jake prodded on. “— is that the official representatives of Guaynia believe in you.” 

“Oh.” The bittersweet information sunk in. “Thank you.” 

Jake grinned, giving her a friendly punch. “You’re gonna do great.”

-x- 

Jake was packing. Given that he had notified Amy of his departure, there was nothing else left to do. His quarters — a parlor and a bedroom — were a shitshow of his belongings. 

Charles popped his head in through the open door. 

“You’re packing.”

“God, how did things get so messy in here,” Jake replied.

“Is everything okay?”

“I mean, we’ve been here like two months,” he continued, not acknowledging Charles’ question. 

“Jake, you sent away all the helpers.”

“You were right. I’m in love with Amy.”

“WHAT!” Charles screeched. “Tell me everything.”

Jake shrugged. “That’s everything. I’m in love with her, and she’s engaged to someone. And I think it’s a marriage of convenience, not love. But maybe I’m wrong. And even if I’m not, how I can I screw that up for her.”

“Aww, Jakey. You’re doing the right thing. I’m proud of you.” 

Jake gave him a wry smile, and Charles enveloped him in a hug. 

-x- 

Holt found Kevin in the gardens, drinking deeply from a bottle of wine. 

"You're drinking," he observed. 

"The night felt appropriately melancholic." ”

Holt settled in next to him, accepting the bottle that Kevin had passed without prompting. 

“I recollect a similar night, years ago.”

Kevin smiled fondly. “The first time we were civilized with each other.”

“You make me sound like a lunatic.”

“You thought Beowulf’s oral history doesn’t affect the text. That is lunacy.”

“The text should stand up on its own. Why complicate things,” retorted Holt. 

Kevin let out a frustrated groan. “How do I put up with you?”

Holt passed the bottle. “I believe I seduced you with wine on a melancholy night.”

“Wine does make you…” Kevin trailed off, glancing at the man beside him. Holt turned a faint pink. 

“Whatever happened to civilized?”

Kevin laughed, and Holt felt the sound jerking at his heart, causing it to skip a beat. 

“So…” began Kevin. “How is the Peralta boy?”

“I don’t trust him,” replied Holt. “The whole lot of them have been nothing but trouble.”

“You can’t hold his parentage against the boy.”

“I know. I just get the sense he’s hiding something.”

“Amy seems to care for him.”

“Santiago is kind.”

“But not naive,” replied Kevin. “I’ll admit, I’ve had my suspicions, but I can see it now. She’s going to carry us forward.” He slipped his hand into Holt’s. 

“I worry that she won’t ever be Genovian enough for this country. It’s the first time the orb has chosen outside the country in almost a century.”

“We can never leave our history behind. That’s why Beowulf’s origins are significant. Amy isn’t Genovian, but she is something. She can’t deny that part of herself.”

Holt didn’t reply, taking in his words, the silence comfortable between the years of love and trust and understanding between them. 

“You should be proud.”

“I suppose I should apologize to Peralta.” 

Kevin tugged on his hand. “Don’t go just yet.”

Holt nodded, intertwining their hands and looking up at the sky. “Tell me about the stars.”

-x- 

Roger knocked perfunctorily as he peaked into Jake’s open quarters. Jake straightened up from behind the bed. 

“Dad?” 

“Hiya, Son. Got a minute for your old man?”

Jake gestured at the couch. 

“What up?”

“I’ve been thinking about your sudden change of mind — about the wannabe Queen, about not attending the wedding, about leaving. You like her.”

“Whaaaat. Amy? Nah.”

“It makes so much sense. You’re running away from your feelings — It’s a classic Peralta move.”

“I’m not.”

“I did it with your mother,” continued Roger. “I drove her away, with the gambling and the cheating. I was scared of the hold she had on me.”

“Cool. Cool cool cool. Can we never talk about that again?”

“Jake, I know I haven’t always been around. I’m sorry. But leave the past behind. I like to think we’ve bonded, and you can tell me anything.”

Jake sighed. “I do like her.”

Roger grinned. “See, that wasn’t hard, was it? For the record, I think she likes you too.”

Jake’s eyes lit up. “You think so?”

“Well, no one can resist the Peralta charm, can they?” He nudged his ribs, and Jake chuckled, relaxing. “I saw you two earlier, sparring.”

“She asked me to teach her.”

“Here’s the thing about women, Jake,” said Roger. Jake grimaced, and Roger laughed goodheartedly. “Who’s going to teach you these things, if not your old man.”

“Alright. Give it to me straight.”

“Here’s the thing about women,” Roger repeated. “When they say ‘I want you to teach me,’ it’s code for ‘I want you.’”

Jake blushed. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered. 

“I get it. Not being able to do anything while the love of your life slips away. I thought your mom would never forgive me for everything that happened. But I had to try, and I did, and I was proven wrong. And now we’re so happy.”

“What are you saying — that I should pursue her?”

“Not just pursue — Go all out. Declare your love from the highest rooftop. Shower her with affection. Give her what she wants, and she’s yours.”

Jake looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know. Seems like a dick move — I mean, she’s with someone.”

“A marriage of convenience can’t stand in the face of true love,” insisted Roger. When Jake didn’t relent, Roger shrugged. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Really?”

“Of course. And trust me, Jake, this is the way to it.”

-x- 

Holt hung in the shadows, watching as Roger walked past. He had been about to enter Peralta’s quarters when he had overheard the conversation between the two men. _So. The kid was in love with Amy. That would explain that._ He still didn’t trust them. 

“A bit late for a walk, isn’t it, Mr. Peralta,” said Holt, falling into step beside him.

Roger let out a yelp. “JESUS FUCK!”

Holt raised an eyebrow, his face impassive.

“What is this — an ambush?”

“I overheard you with your son just now.”

“Is this how you treat your guests?”

“Only the ones that mistreat their hosts,” retorted Holt. “I don’t know what your or your son’s intentions are towards Santiago, but I promise you, if you hurt my girl, you will answer directly to me. And whatever crimes I commit against you, remember, I have diplomatic immunity in forty-six countries, including Puerto Rico.

“Are you threatening me?” asked Roger. “You will find that the word "fear" is not in my vocabulary.

“Perhaps,” replied Holt. “But, it's in your eyes.” 

Roger didn’t reply, struggling with the eye contact. Holt nodded. “Goodnight, sir.” Then, coolly as ever, he walked away. 

-x- 

Amy couldn’t sleep. The ghost of Jake’s touch on her hips played over and over in her mind. No matter how hard she tried to change the ending, it was always the same. _“I’m leaving.”_

There was a knock. 

Amy sat up. Had she imagined it? Was it… could it be…?

There was another knock on the door, and Amy scrambled out of bed. Pulling on her robe, she opened the door. It was Holt. 

“Santiago, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Couldn’t sleep. What’s up?”

“I wanted to apologize for today.”

“It’s not me you have to say sorry to; it’s Jake.”

“I know. I shall speak to him in the morning.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

There was a silence, and Holt forged ahead. “I don’t think you should be alone with him anymore.”

Amy’s eyebrows flew into her hairline. “Excuse me? And since when do you get to decide that?”

“I don’t trust him. And it doesn’t look good.”

“Excuse me!” Amy could barely contain the anger. For once, it didn’t matter that this was Holt — her mentor, her guide. 

“You’re engaged. And you’re a Queen. You have responsibilities. The people are expecting a wedding.”

“It’s not like that with him.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s what it looks like that matters.”

Amy didn’t say anything. She was furious, but she couldn’t deny him his point. Holt continued in a gentler tone. 

“You’ve worked so hard for this, Santiago. Don’t let a Peralta take this from you.”

The fight left her. Shoulder slumped, eyes closed, Amy nodded. Holt uncharacteristically placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

-x- 

Amy and Teddy walked hand in hand through the town, and Jake almost chickened out. He had been trying to reach her for a couple of days, but she was always busy. This was supposed to be his chance, but God damn Teddy Wells. 

His father’s words had wrestled with Charles’ affirmation the entire night, driving him insane. And then, with the sun, a thought arose. There was only one way to quench the curiosity in him. He couldn’t ask her, but he could tell her. There wouldn’t be a question or any expectations — just the truth. 

He had an idea. 

He approached the engaged couple with a warm smile, hands folded behind his back. “Mr. Wells,” he said, bowing a little. Teddy smiled back, and Jake ignored a pang of guilt. “Queen Santiago,” he acknowledged, taking Amy’s hand in his and kissing the knuckles. 

He could feel her hesitance on the sliver of skin touching his lips. This wasn’t how they greeted each other, but it would do. He straightened, slipping a crumpled up piece of paper into her hand. He prayed that she would go along. 

Her hands curled into a fist, and he exhaled in relief. 

“I heard you’re leaving soon, Mr. Peralta?” asked Teddy.

“Ah, yes, I’ve overstayed my welcome as it is. Just doing last-minute shopping. Mom hates the tacky fridge magnets; she wants me to bring back a real gift.”

“When do you leave?” asked Amy. 

“Three days.” 

“You’ll miss our wedding then,” said Teddy. 

“My apologies,” replied Jake. “But my mother is a total drama queen and desperately wants me back.” 

Teddy laughed, and Jake shot finger guns at him. 

“Gonna head out. See you two lovebirds around.”

-x-

**_meet me at midn8 u no wer._ **

“Jesus. He is more incomprehensible than your texts, Gina,” said Amy, tossing the note at Gina. It bounced off her stomach and off the bed. Rosa stretched to pick it up. The girls lounged around Gina and Rosa’s bedroom. Amy had rushed back to the palace after Jake had accosted her, disturbing the couple for much-needed advice. 

“He wants to meet you at midnight,” said Gina reading the note over Rosa’s shoulder. 

“What?”

Gina shrugged. “Says here, you know where.”

Amy grabbed the paper, scanning it. 

“Holt doesn’t want me to see him.”

“I don’t know how many sticks Holt’s hoarding up his ass, but I’d vouch for Peralta,” retorted Gina. 

“He seems trustworthy,” added Rosa. “It’s a vibe.”

“He is. He’s great, but this — going to see him — what if it’s the wrong move? Lately, I can’t seem to get anything right. I tried to help that mother with the flower shop, and now minister mustache is making my life a living hell. Roger Peralta is just waiting for me to fuck up. And even Holt is worried I’m going to do something wrong, and I just — UGH!” Amy let out a pent up scream. 

The silence that followed was deafening. Gina looked at her like she was crazy. 

“Girl, you need to destress like yesterday.”

“No shit.”

“Christ, Santiago. Get a grip. We’re on your side, no matter what you want,” said Rosa.

“I don’t know what I want.” 

“You don’t know what you’re allowed to want,” said Gina. “But that was your first mistake, my chickling. That’s not how ‘wants’ work.”

“That’s strangely insightful. Thanks, Gina.”

“So,” asked Rosa. “What do you want?”

Amy stared at the paper in her hand. She knew what she wanted. 

-x- 

Amy approached the garden alcove with a warm blanket protecting her from the midnight chill. If she knew Jake, and she liked to believe she did, then he had to be here. Sure enough, she turned the corner to find him with a picnic basket. 

“You came.”

“I did.” 

There was a tense silence, and then —

“Have a seat, milady,” said Jake, gesturing at the spot next to him on the picnic blanket. She obeyed, shrugging off the quilt, so it covered them both. 

“Did you ever try that milady nonsense in New York?”

“Once,” replied Jake. “During my first week. She threw her vodka in my face.”

Amy laughed. “Very ladylike.” 

“Indeed. What a welcome to the city.”

“I’m gonna be brave and offer you some wine. But you have to promise not to throw it in my face.”

Amy shrugged. “No guarantees.”

“Oh, fine. I’ll take the risk. Can’t say no to your sorcery.”

Amy laughed as he uncorked the bottle. 

“Well, fuck,” he muttered. 

“What’s wrong.” 

“Forgot to pack glasses.”

“What?”

Jake shrugged and took a large swig from the bottle. He passed it to Amy. 

“Whatever happened to ‘Ladies First.’” 

“As if I was gonna risk calling you a lady and throwing that in my face.” 

“Butthead,” said Amy. 

“Look,” said Jake, pointing at the sky. “The north star is unusually bright today.”

Amy laughed. “Jake, that’s mars.”

“What?”

“The north star is over there,” Amy replied, moving his hand till it pointed in a different direction. 

“You know a lot about stars?”

“Yeah. Loved astronomy. It’s just so fascinating; this whole wide world right in front of us. Waiting for us to explore it.”

“Show me more constellations.”

Amy pointed out the classics — Orion, Big Dipper, Ursa Major. They watched the stars for a while, warm in the other’s company. 

“So, why am I here?” 

“I think you know.”

After a beat, Jake added. “I like you. I might even love you. I want to be with you, romantic stylez. And I know you’re with someone. I’m not expecting anything; I just needed you to know. No games, just the truth.”

God, it was so obvious. A million thoughts were racing through her head, each fighting their way to the tip of her tongue. Finally, she said, “You were right. I knew, on some level, why you asked me here. And there’s a reason I came. But I can’t — Do you remember when I said that lately, I don’t know what I am?”

“Yeah.”

“I am not a cheater. Teddy and I… whatever we may be, I am committed to him. I don’t want to break his trust.”

“I am not asking you to,” replied Jake.

“I should go.” 

“Probably.”

She didn’t move. 

“Or I could teach you more about the stars.” 

“I’d like that.” 

“I mean it. Only gonna teach you about the stars, nothing else.”

“Obviously,” retorted Jake. “I’m a perfect student.”

Amy snorted. “I doubt that.”

-x- 

Amy returned to her quarters in the early light. She had spent the night talking to Jake — about New York; his love-hate relationship with his father; her rivalry with her brother David; his unexpected and cherished friendship with Charles; her favorite high school teacher Ms. Janeth; and gods only knew what else. He listened, even when she went off on a tangent, rambling about her favorite art style. And joined in her indignation at Genovia’s lack of proper use of Latin in their official documents. He wanted to know what she thought of the crops and the policy changes she dreamed of introducing. 

He wanted to know her. 

And he made her laugh. 

She watched the sun come up through her window and thought that it need not have bothered. She carried enough light within her for the whole world. She wondered what the hell she was going to do as she drifted off. 

Turns out, she didn’t get a choice. 

She was disturbed from her sleep a couple of hours later, with a loud banging. Rosa and Gina burst in while she spotted Holt hovering in the doorway. 

“What?”

Gina handed her the phone. Photos of her and Jake from the previous night. A spark of anger burst through her. Was nothing sacred anymore? And then, based on the looks on her friends' faces, an icy chill ran through her. Teddy. 

“Nothing happened, I swear.” She looked at Holt, who shook his head. 

“Doesn’t matter. Wells will be here soon.”

-x- 

Amy watched as Teddy paced in front of her. There had been a lot of debate — should she lie, edit, flat out deny the pictures. She put her foot down. Teddy was going to get the truth. Amy knew first hand how messy it was, but it was everything. 

“I don’t care,” he said at long last. 

“So, you believe me?”

“I do. But it doesn’t matter.”

“I never meant to humiliate you.”

“I know. Like I said, it doesn’t matter to me. But the press will swoop down like hawks.”

“I know. We can release a statement, take care of it. It’ll blow over soon and —”

“We should get married. Not two weeks from now; not two days. Tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

“It’s the only way of proving that you’re true. That we’re still good.”

Amy nodded, unsettled. This wasn’t at all how she had expected this conversation to go. She realized, with a bitter start, that she had wanted him to break it off. 

-x- 

The sudden pushing up of Amy’s wedding caused panic. Even the head of her staff, who was typically a picture of manners and impassivity, stared aghast. As she apologized, the woman left, muttering to herself and barking orders. 

Amy insisted that things didn’t need to be perfect, but she assured her that things were always perfect on her watch. New invites had to be sent out. Her parents rescheduled their flights. Everyone was in a state of madness, and she was of no help.

By the time evening turned into night, she hadn’t had a moment to reach out to Jake. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Someone had to inform him, and she hoped it wouldn’t be the paparazzi. 

Before she could pursue the line of thought, Gina dragged her away. 

“What’s going on?”

“Bachelorette party!” 

“No, no, no.” Amy resisted, trying to escape her grasp, but Gina had claws for hands. Her grip was unbreakable. 

In a small, dimly lit room, Rosa was setting up a karaoke machine. Bottles of alcohol rested on a table. 

“This was the best we could manage on such short notice.”

“Blame Teddy for that.”

“Oh, I plan on it.”

“She tried to get you a stripper,” interjected Rosa.

“Did you know Genovia doesn’t allow strippers? That’s the first thing you need to change when you’re Queen.”

Amy opened a bottle of beer. “Fuck. I forgot about that.”

“What?”

“That I’m going to be Queen after all this.”

“A lifetime of bowing and curtseying and people following all my orders sounds like a dream to me.”

Before Amy could retort, the door opened. Holt and Kevin entered.

“I thought you said this was an emergency,” Holt said to Gina. 

“It is! The Queen’s bachelor party has only 4 guests.”

“I like it,” Amy said. “Drinks, guys?”

Kevin poured himself a rum and coke, while Holt declined. 

“Come on, Captain,” said Amy, reaching for him. “I know I messed up, but it’s all going to work out. I’ll be married soon, and then the Queen. It’s worth a toast.”

Holt smiled and relented. “If we are toasting to the Queen, then it needs to be champagne.” He popped open a bottle and poured everyone a glass. After they clinked, Holt pulled Amy aside. 

“Santiago, I’m sorry. I’ve been pushing you too hard.”

“Captain. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

“I don’t want you to make a mistake.”

Amy shook her head. 

“A mistake —” Gina interrupted, “— would be letting a perfectly fine karaoke machine go to waste.”

“Ah! But Raymond doesn’t karaoke,” said Kevin. 

Holt raised an eyebrow at his love. “Challenge accepted.” Rosa and Gina cheered as Holt picked out a song. As the familiar ‘dun. dun-dun-dun’ hit, Amy laughed. Of course. He had picked out Alexander Hamilton, from the musical. He had taken her to see it that first week when he was in New York. 

Amy took in her friends and teachers, laughing and singing and dancing, and with a pang, wondered when she’d feel this free again. 

-x- 

The day of Amy’s wedding was bright and clear. Amy dressed in her room. Her parents had arrived in the morning, with David — the only one of her siblings who could make it — and she had spent a few minutes with them. David bragged about how NYU had accepted him into a masters program, and Amy reached her limit. Insisting they rested, she had them taken to their quarters. 

She could see the steady flow of dignitaries and council members and other prominent families arriving from her room. They would be seated in a special section, which would be roped off. Beyond that, citizens crammed against each other, wanting to be present for the momentous occasion. 

When it was time, she left by herself. Made her way through the winding, twisting hallways of the place she called home. The stage where she had declared the Jimmy Jab Games, where Jake won her, her crown, was now an altar.

There was an aisle among the rows of guests, but she wouldn’t be walking down that way. Her entrance would be from the side stage, while Teddy emerged from the other end. They would meet in the middle like a compromise. 

The organ played, and Teddy stepped on the altar. Amy waited for her cue and joined him. She had a brief 30 seconds to scan the crowds for him, but it wasn’t enough. Goddamnit, she needed more time. 

Holt stood between them, officiating the wedding. 

“Marriage is,” he began, before stopping. Amy frowned — Holt never faltered. He was looking past her, among the guests. She followed his gaze and landed on Kevin. When it clicked, it felt obvious. She nudged him, and Holt looked at her, something unidentifiable in his eyes. Was he… scared?

“It’s okay,” she mouthed. He nodded, grateful. 

“Marriage is a contract. But it’s so much more than that. Marriage is love. It’s commitment, it’s joy, it’s understanding, it’s patience, it’s anger, it’s reconciliation. It’s everything. It’s like oatmeal. It sustains you.”

He brushed past Amy and Teddy, breaking through their linked hands.

“Kevin. I love you. Will you marry me?”

Kevin beamed and nodded. “There’s nothing I’d like more, Raymond.”

They kissed, and Amy was first to break the silence that followed. She clapped, and soon others joined in. Loud cheering and applause for the newly engaged couple. How had she not known? Three years of spending every day with Holt, and yet. It was funny how she kept missing things right in front of her eyes. 

Holt sheepishly made his way back on the altar. “Pardon me for the interruption, folks. But we have a wedding to proceed with.”

Holt recited the vows, asking Teddy if he would take her as his wife. Amy wasn’t paying attention, still lost in thought about Holt, and what he said about marriage and how he hid this from her. 

It must have taken a lot to be this brave. 

Marriage was more than a contract. 

And Holt, he had been so, so brave. 

“Queen Santiago?” Holt nudged her into the present. “Do you take Teddy Wells to be your lawfully wedded husband?” He repeated the question. 

“I —”

He was her mentor. Who else would she learn this from, if not him? 

“I’m sorry, Teddy,” she whispered. Recognition and hurt flashed in his eyes. She hoped he would understand, but if he didn’t, then she would. She turned to the crowd. 

“I don’t. I don’t accept Teddy Wells as my husband.” 

Predictably, gasps and whispers and comments filled the room. For once, it didn’t faze her. 

“I’m 21. I have my whole life ahead of me. I’m too young to be getting married. And for what? An ancient ritual? I am your Queen, Genovia, and not because some orb said it so or because I may or may not have a husband. I am because I care about you. This is my stand. This is me. I hope you accept her.”

Roger Peralta stood up, foaming at the mouth. “I don’t. As an official representative of Guaynia, I am disgusted by your blatant disregard for Genovian traditions. Was it not enough that you’ve made a scandal of yourself? Not to mention you dragged my son into it. You’re not fit to rule. Guaynia will see to it that Genovia merges with the kingdom, under a true ruler.”

“God, it would be so embarrassing for you if you meant me.” 

Amy’s head whipped through the crowd. In a back row, Jake stood. 

“You know, I put up with you because I thought I needed a father. To make up for the fact that I never had one. But I don’t. I don’t need you, and as long as I remain the heir to Guaynia, you have no power here. I denounce you as my father because you aren’t,” said Jake, his words ringing clear through the silent room. Turning to Amy, he added, “Guaynia recognizes your authority as the ruler of Genovia, and we will respect it. There is no reason for our countries to come together again… not today.”

“Thank you, Jake,” said Amy. Facing Roger, she added. “You are right about one thing. I am not fit to rule Genovia, not yet. Because if 21 is too young to be married, it is definitely too young to be in charge of a country. So I would like to appoint Captain Raymond Holt in my stead while I figure out how to be a better leader for you.”

She turned to Holt. For once, his face betrayed his emotions. 

“If you accept it?” she asked him. 

“Yes. Thank you, Santiago.” 

“A couple of things,” Amy said. “One, I move to permanently change the law where a woman has to be married to be the Queen. I don’t believe that’s what Rosagunde intended at all. My ministers are here with me today. I’ve recently realized that I’m the Queen, and I don’t need their permission. But I’m not interested in ruling Genovia. I want to lead it. So I would like for their vote on this matter.” 

Everyone agreed, even Minister Moustache. The irony of this legislation passing on her wedding day wasn’t lost on her. 

“Secondly, I reckon that we have a fantastic reception prepared for you and I don’t see why it should go to waste. Have a good time, everyone. Let this be a wedding for the ages.”

The room burst into cheer, and Amy could have sworn she was floating.

And then she turned to Teddy, still standing next to her. She wanted to say how sorry she was, but the words wouldn’t come. So, instead, she said, “I’m glad it was you standing here next to me.”

“You’ve changed the world, Amy Santiago,” he replied, bowing. “My Queen. I am glad to have been a part of it.”

-x- 

People kept finding her, wanting to share their joys and sorrows and stories. Each one of them moved her, and Amy wanted to listen with her whole heart. But since it was the matter of her heart, she was a little distracted. 

Where was he?

She was caught up in a long conversation with Minister Moustache when Holt found her. He held hands with Kevin, and Amy wrapped them in a hug. 

“Sorry, sorry, I know you don’t like it. I couldn’t help myself.”

“I think the occasion calls for it,” replied Kevin. 

Holt leaned forward, whispering. “We can create a distraction if you want to get out of here.” 

“How?”

He jerked his head across the room, where Gina was setting up a mic. Rosa flashed a thumbs up, and Amy blew a kiss in their direction. As Gina tapped the mic, causing a loud screeching echo, Amy slipped out. 

She knew where he would be. 

-x- 

“Hey,” she said, hovering by the entrance of the alcove. “Can I come in?”

“It’s your garden,” Jake shrugged. 

“Is that a yes?”

“Nah, actually, you can’t. I need some alone time.”

“What if I have something for you.”

“Bribing a significant royalty type person isn’t a good look, Santiago.” 

“Guess then I’ll eat this garlic bread by myself, somewhere else.” 

“That doesn’t sound like a fun time for me.”

Amy laughed, and he pulled her closer. She tugged at his hair, soft and curly between her fingers, closing the distance between them. They kissed, at long last, and nothing made more sense to her. It was like magnets coming together — all force and heat and sparks. The movement of his shoulders, her breathlessness, his tongue on her lip. Fuck. 

“We’re,” she began, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “in. public.” 

Jake groaned, but after a moment, he pulled away. His hand leaped to his mouth. “Fuck.”

They stared at each other, their desire evident. 

“You know —” said Amy, trying to think of something to say. “— that was the brilliant speech you gave.” 

“Nothing compared to yours.”

“My favorite part was when you said our countries wouldn’t come together.”

“Hmm,” replied Jake, trying to kiss her again. 

“I noticed the ‘not today’ you tacked on there.”

“Well, I can’t speak for all the future rulers of our countries, can I?”

“Of course not,” agreed Amy grinning. “That has to be what you meant.”

“Maybe there’s a future where our countries merge for different reasons.”

“Like?”

“Who knows?”

“As long as there’s a future?” asked Amy.

Jake grinned. “Definitely.”

They talked, between bites of the bread and dancing to the faint music. 

“What’s the plan next?” he asked. 

“I was thinking, New York, for some time.” 

“You’ve missed it.”

“You know it. And then, college.”

“College?” 

“It was always the plan. So my five-year-plan got moved around a little, so what? I knew what I was doing when I made it.”

“Studying art?”

“Yeah. But also economics. Maybe there’s a course about ruling a country.”

“I’m sure you’ll ace it.”

“What about you?”

“Deal with my mom. Step up a little; figure out what this whole King-in-waiting deal is.”

“Maybe I can intern with your uncle.”

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool. I’ll show you around Guaynia.”

“I’d love that.” 

Amy leaned forward. 

“I have garlic breath,” he reasoned. 

“I don’t care.”

They kissed again, this time moving in a slow haze. They had all the time in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Listen I know Amy wasn't super nerdy, but like, we're reading this from her perspective and I fully believe in her own head she is constantly in a state of imposter syndrome induced anxiety. Or maybe not, maybe i'm just projecting. Well guess what, this is my home and i can project wherever i want. It's 2 am, send help.


End file.
